How Fatty got her Groove Back

So yeah, I’m merely staring down the barrel of 40. And while I’m not there yet, my innards and my mental state still feel as if they are in their adolescent stages. My lungs, inner drive and spirit are fully prepared to run a marathon or conquer the Iron Man.

My body however, has other designs. Though I’ve been blessed with the ability to remain perpetually and mentally 12, I was cursed with the bad joints of an overweight car salesman named Lou. From my ankles, knees, hips, to my elbows, wrists and shoulders. They really ought to just take me out back and shoot me. I’m of no use to anyone, really.

I decided to give up running because I’d like to still be able to walk and remain mobile in my 80s. And since I’m a marketer’s dream, I decided to purchase a bottle of ‘Move Free’ upon seeing a commercial on late night television. Prolly between the transition of Golden Girls to Murder She Wrote…The ad touted putting an end to that pesky arthritis and joint pain that typically plagues the denture-clad, Super Polydent Generation.

I went on the website—more images of oldsters with testimonials of how they have their lives back, pain-free. And then there she was. Jane Seymour in all her fifty-something glory sharing her "personal inspiring story about managing joint discomfort.” Well damn it, if it’s good enough for Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman, then it’s good enough for me. I realize though, that she’s not a real doctor and was merely portraying a fictional character on the TV. She just has really nice hair. Someone with such luxurious and fine locks would never steer me wrong. “They” say that Move Free will comfort joints in just SEVEN days!”

So I went to the CVS and bought a bottle. Suckah. It’s a combination of chondrotin, glucosamine, Chinese skullcap and shellfish. Complete hookah? Perhaps. But I’m willing to try it. Cause Seymour says so. And wouldn’tcha know? Just like that. *Poof* I have my life back. Exactly like Oldie McCreaks-a-Lot gushed about in her testimonial.

This morning I went running for the first time since last year. And I felt like a million bucks. Um… okay, that’s pretty much a total lie –in this economy, more like $199.95. But I’ll take it. “This baby corners like she’s on rails.” (Had to throw in the Pretty Woman ref for my loyal readers- all two of them…)

So the moral of this story is, I'll buy pretty much anything from anyone who has nice hair. Or anyone who is elderly and decrepit. I maybe even woulda bought a used car off of Estelle Getty. But then, she’s dead.